Thief
by Jiraiya Sensei
Summary: Less than friends and not even lovers, it's a mission for two! Bakugo and Uraraka team up for a night of adventure and intrigue. Victory or misfortune, no one knows what awaits the two on the pulse of morning. Stay tuned to find out in: Thief!
1. Chapter 1

Spring had come and with it a new set of challenge for UA High's many heroes. Each student of 1A was to be assigned personalized missions tailored to their weaknesses. A partner was randomly assigned to each, in hopes to both help the young heroes overcome obstacles and work as a team. A sigh left Aizawa's lips however, as his class had an infamously uncooperative hero. "What you need to work on is your stealth…and cooperation" he spoke to the young Bakugo. The teachers of UA were one of the few authority figures he respected enough to keep silent for. Though Bakugo's intrinsic weakness were known to him it was seldom that they were addressed. His physical prowess and battle instinct were akin to genius but everything else left much to be desired.

"In this line of work you're going to be in situations where you need to tail criminals, monitor situations, and work with other heroes. Frankly, you're the worst in class when it comes to keeping a low profile." Aizawa handed him a folder. "Uraraka will be joining you to assist. The goal is to retrieve a painting from the Musutafu Museum of Art." He coughed. A man of few words, he felt his limit surpassed and took his leave from the classroom.

Though it did not take long for an annoyance to sprout. "Bakugo," chimed an airy voice that could only come from a round face. "We should set up a plan," Uraraka spoke from the hallway looking into the classroom. The folder in Bakugo's hand quickly burnt to a crisp and left smoke and dust in its wake. Upon his handsome countenance formed his signature grin, beaming with arrogance. "Shut the hell up round face," he barked.

"I'll just barge in and take this shit off the wall." Much to Uraraka's dismay, he was already proving uncooperative. "Jeez Bakugo, you'll trip every alarm in the place. Even if you took off the power the security would identify you by your quirk." Uraraka took a seat in the classroom. Though Bakugo grumbled there was not much he could do to deny the truth.

Assuming him too prideful to ask her ideas she proposed it to save his pride. "The best hiding spot is in a crowd." She nodded enthusiastically, as if having figured it all out. "So let's go to the exhibit together!" Unlike him she had already taken the time to read over their mission. "The painting we're after is called "'War and Peace'", by the famous Italian artist Baracelli. The best time to take it would be night because we can use the cover of darkness to make our escape."

Uraraka had her own reservation about this mission but kept silent. What was the purpose of heroes committing a villainous act? And what could she hope to glean from such a nefarious endeavor? Though with a partner like Bakugo she lacked the time or patience to unravel such mysteries.

Bakugo knew her idea was practical. And if proving he could restrain himself in public was a key part of the mission, blending in with the crowd would provide a fruitful opportunity to prove himself. "Tch, fine. Whatever." He folded his arms and kicked his legs atop his desk. "I'll meet you at the damn museum at 8." Uraraka shook her head in disapproval. "The best way to make it in without causing a scene is to look like a couple. We should go together. And the exhibit it at 9." She was reluctant to pose the question but it was necessity. "B-Bakugo…have you ever been to an art exhibit before?"

He hung his head in silence. "Hmph, of course! It was a fiel-" Uraraka felt the need to interject. "I mean for leisure." He furrowed his brow curiously. Who the hell goes to museums for fun!? Much less, what hero would go to a museum for leisure!? "No," Bakugo responded curtly, somewhat bewildered by her question. Uraraka rested her head in her palm. "WH-WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!?" his usual anger swelled. Shaking her head to recover she made it quite clear what was to be expected of him. "Bakugo…make sure you wear a suit. Think of it as a date. Hmm…or better yet, think of it as a different kind of battle! Hee hee," she grinned in hopes the comparison would calm down his infamous temper.

"Hmph, all this trouble to steal something we could yank off the damn wall." In truth he wished to carry out his missions the same way All Might did. Epic introductions, overwhelming dominance, and bad ass victory poses! Engaging in a romantic deception did not sit well with him, but this was another obstacle on his path to supremacy. He spat in derision. "Fine." Uraraka was taken aback. "I…uh…really!?" He had gone along with the plan! "Alright, I'm looking forward to it!" Perhaps things would proceed smoother than she thought.

When the sun slipped beneath the horizon and evening had come, under starlight and spotlight the girls of 1A gathered to transform and observe Uraraka from lovable airhead to the kind of high class, sophisticated woman that attends art exhibitions at night. "Actually, there's a lot of drunk people at these things" Momo was quick to shatter the ideas her classmates had about evening galleries. "If not enough people are interested, owners will provide free wine and food to entice people to come." Ashido frowned. "Way to take away the magic, Momo." Jirou merely laughed in amusement. Though she appreciated the arts it was quite unlike her love of music.

"I think it's fine," Uraraka was quick to interject. "It may just be a mission. But still…dressing up, and going with a hero to a museum!" She squealed the way only a teenage girl could. "It's definitely on my high school bucket list." It was hard to hide her enthusiasm. "But a mission is a mission! And that piece will definitely be ours." Her sweet smile was unprepared for the horrors the evening would entail.

Not even a knock and his presence was known: "Round face, haul your ass out here already!" It was a tone to turn the mood sour. Momo sighed in annoyance. "Good luck. I think you'll need it." Clad in the armor of a strapless, lavender evening gown the would-be thief approached her date. A tall, broad shouldered and athletic youth, with explosive hair and passionate crimson eyes–––it would be easy to mistake him for devilishly handsome. Unfortunately for Bakugo his mouth was infamous on its own.

It did not matter how charming her hair bounced as she walked, nor her lovely form shone in every step, nor the twinkle in her eyes of innocence and youth. There would be no compliment. What mattered is what he could gain from this opportunity. He grinned not for Uraraka but the goal: Bakugo would be the best! To her however the way his eyes bulged with excitement was more menacing than inspiring. "A-Ah….Let's get going then." Though the unease in her voice was not lost upon Bakugo he could not find the right words. Into night they stepped.

Distant but close the young Uraraka did her best to walk beside him. Bakugo's strut was intimidating in its own right. Even in a suit his hands were buried in his pocket. His legs heaved upon the earth as mammoths. The expression worn upon his countenance was downright villainous. It called to mind images of a stereotypical yakuza–––criminal–––gangster! Mentally they might as well have been in different universes. He was itching for a fight. A chance for measure, to grow and impress. Someone's ass was getting kicked tonight. In contrast her mind slipped elsewhere, to different waters. "Izuku…" she whispered nonchalantly.

Hearing the name Bakugo's ears instinctively perked up in annoyance. Laughter spilled from her maw. Even if she was posing as his date, Midoriya nerves probably would have made the situation equally calamitous. "Hey," his voice spoke dark and threatening. His strong back towards her. "WHAT'S SO DAMN FUNNY" his signature roar, with the addition of embers flickering from his maw. "E-EEH" she squeaked. As usual his intensity proved overwhelming. "W-Well it's nothing. I just thought of a joke I heard earlier. Something Jiro said…about stop signs!" Uraraka improvise to save herself. Their walk continued in awkward silence till their destination had emerged.

A building of stone, cold and grey–––erect high in the sky. Elongated windows were stylishly placed in its modern construction, and light spilled from its interior. The art exhibit had attracted much attention. Its glass doors were held open by valets, permitting entry to the dignified personages that were in attendance. The city's mayor, its upper echelons, young lovers, art enthusiasts, socialites, a cavalcade of beings glamorously dressed. There was money in that building. And where one would find money, they would find evil.

She knew their cover would crumble before even crossing the street. Uraraka's heart skipped a beat. She immediately tugged at Bakugo's arm, wrapping her own around his in an embrace. "Wh-what the hell are you doing!?" he barked out much to her expectation. "Bakugo. I don't like it either!" Uraraka spoke clearly. "But we really need to sell this cover. S-So…just for a bit. Please." Uncomfortable. Inexperienced. Women were a whole other world. Kicking her ass again was far more preferable than having her latched onto his arm so intimately. "Tch," he spat in derision. But he did not free himself from her grip, allowing for a brief moment the delusion they came as a couple to continue.

"Tickets please," the attendant beckoned at the entrance. While Uraraka handed them over with a disarming smile, the villainous mug of Bakugo once more sent tremors running down their spines. And thus they embarked into the lofty museum for a night of thievery and intrigue.

/Apologies for an errors! I wrote this during a lack of sleep so many probably escaped my notice. If you enjoyed it, please look forward to chapter 2!


	2. Chapter 2

The museum's interior was what one could expect. Ornate marble flooring, decorative columns, grandiose chandeliers of crystal and glass while an aroma of decadence hung in the air. Excess and luxury oozed from every corner. Bakugo's eyes flared with a sense of discomfort, reminiscent of his time interning under Blue Jeanist. "What the fuck kinda stupid ass bullshit did Aizawa drag me into," Bakugo quipped much to Uraraka's dismay. "C'mon really? I guess it can't go that smoothly," she laughed. Tugging at his arm to gain his attention she continued. "Bakubae," Uraraka struck the bubbly tone of a love obsessed teenager that gave her boyfriend nicknames. She meshed in well with the crowd. Bakugo, on the other hand….

"The FUCK did you call me!?" His outburst drew a number of gazes from the people around them. All of which Uraraka worked to disarm with a dismissive laughter. "Oh Bakugo, you're so funny!" After clearing her throat it was obvious they needed to depart from this section of the museum. Lingering in the same space too long would ensure their identities stood out. "Why don't we go look at some of the art?" Before he could disagree she had seized him by the arm and dragged him towards the oriental art in a distant wing of the building.

"Look at that," Uraraka pointed to a painting of a woman. Her eyes lit up with awe and inspiration. Unimpressed however Bakugo countered, "and what the fuck is that supposed to be?" He crossed his arms. But at the very least he was perceptive enough to pick up on her interest. The painting in question depicted a woman of ancient China, elaborately dressed and lost in repose. "It's a depiction of Xi Shi," Uraraka was quick to answer. She studied the exhibit with what time there was beforehand. "This woman was considered one of four beauties from Ancient China." She sighed before closing her eyes to imagine the kind of life Xi Shi led. "They say she was so beautiful that while leaning over a balcony to look at a pond, the fish were so enchanted by her appearance they forgot how to swim and sank deep below the surface.

"Oi, round-face. Don't tell me you believe in that kind of bullshit." She could only smile. "Well, maybe. It's nice to imagine fairy tales can exist too, you know!" Hoping to keep him entertained and subdue his Baku-rage she continued the narrative. "D-Despite the fairy tale elements, there is a historical record about her. She was actually employed as an assassin by the emperor and he used her to poison his enemies. Isn't that interesting?" Such a tale she hoped would entertain him. Bakugo however wore a shit eating grin. "Only a fucking weakling would fall victim to that shitty tactic. When it comes to women–––there's just one rule to live by." She had a bad feeling….

"If she breathes…" he began. Uraraka's eyes grew wide with suspense. "N-No….Don't say it," she quickly interjected. "SHE'S A…" his voice picked up in volume, as did her plea. "Bakugo, please!" The grin never left his mug. "THOT!" Uraraka walked to the refreshment table, swung her arm at the closest glass of champagne she could find, and chugged it down in a single gulp. The seemingly innocuous idea of making booze free at art galleries now seemed to enhance the experience. "Ba-Ku-Go, I could probably go on about how women are queens and deserve respect but you probably won't care. So…more art! Hee hee!" Her arm once more roped along his in an embrace. But not one to be slighted she plotted deviously. Opting to use words as her weapons she whispered: "Ba-Ku-Bae." It worked wonders to ticking him off.

The next painting they visited was titled "Rappaccini's Daughter". An Italian piece, it depicted a woman lying in a garden and on the cusp of death. Her slender arm of ivory lifted to her lover's face to grant him a single touch before her demise. "Aaah, this painting really confuses my heart." Another dreamy sigh fled Uraraka's lips. She was utterly enchanted. "Bittersweet I'd say" a woman's voice rang out. The mayor and his wife it seemed were also interested in the work of art. "Though it's so nice to see young people drawn to it" the man added. The mayor was quick to take Uraraka's hand, politely shaking and turning her towards a camera. A rotund man in his forties he was what one expected of their mayor. His wife was in contrast was much younger and lovelier. "You're those famous UA heroes." He smiled for a camera. A true politician, he knew all too well the value of posing with celebrities. His wife on the other hand, whose initial comment aptly described the painting imbibed a bit of her champagne. Bakugo kept silent. Though the villainous expression of his resting face did much to keep the conversation steered away from him.

"Pardon me M'am," Uraraka hoped to get in their good graces. "Do you know the story behind this painting?" A smile swept upon her lips as she was all too eager to divulge its tale. "The daughter of the scientist Rappacinni. A young woman in her father's Garden of Eden, you could say. She was fed poison her entire life. Unable to live without her supply of toxins, she was a prisoner in this paradise of venomous plants." The mayor rolled his eyes. His wife sipped more alcohol. "Her father's assistant was in love with her however. He gave her an antidote so they could run away together." A chuckle, dark and foreboding, fell from her thin lips. "When she drank the antidote, it was not love that waited for her but death. She was poison itself." The mayor pursued his lips before commenting. His wife it seemed had struck some nerve. "A witch my dear…has many faces. By some accounts she knew the antidote would kill her. And it was not a life she sought out but that exact death. It was freedom from her father. Freedom from her cage. I am of the scholarly opinion she was quite aware." Being rich folk it seemed obligatory his wife concurred. "Indubitably, my darling. Let's not keep these children any longer." And thus did the couple depart.

"The fuck was that? Those losers pissed me off! Bringing their veiled bullshit to us….Do I look like a god damn therapist!?" Bakugo rubbed the back of his explosive hair. Uraraka was equally puzzled. "Well…I can't say there wasn't any tension. I hope I don't end up in a marriage like that." His laughter cut through her marital-oriented thoughts. "AH HA HA HA! Oi round face, who'd marry you?" Uraraka's eye's narrowed and she raised a nearby glass to her lip. She found in that moment a sliver of sympathy for the mayor's wife. But Ochaco Uraraka was not the kind of woman to take an insult standing down. "Maybe…Midoriya."

A comeback like that left her with a spring in her step, carrying her off to the next painting she wanted to observe. Bakugo for his part was left irate. "Uraraka…that…fuck-stick." He grinded his teeth, keeping silent the storm of profanities he wished to bellow out.

"Samarra" the words slipped from her lips like a spell. A forlorn painting of a desert laid bare, a city in the distance, an endless sky of dark blue stretched out and dotted with flecks of starlight. And there upon a hill of dust stood alone figure, their dark robes billowing in the wind–––gallant in black. "Ah, Uravity" a voice called out. Upon turning she exclaimed at his identity. "K-Kamui Woods!" His hero costume was of easily recognizable. "What are you doing here," the young heroine chimed. "Security, nothing glamorous as you. Though stay alert young hero! I hear there may be villains lurking about." This took Uraraka by surprise. "Ah…I see."

"What does this d-lister want," Bakugo thought as he arrived to the pair. His expression remained its villainous stoicism. From what Kamui knew of young Bakugo the sight confused him. "Is this a…d-date?" Uraraka assumed her game face. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, giggling. "Y-Yeah. Something like that." In an uncharacteristic attempt at cooperation, Bakugo's muscular arm roped around Uraraka's shoulder. He spoke with far more confidence. "Yeah old timer. You jealous?" The bravado of his grin alone was overwhelming. The punk knew how to hit a 29 year old where it hurt. Here he was on Friday night, single and working, while young couples freely mingled. "N-Nothing like that. I should get back to work. Stay vigilant young heroes!" Kamui immediately fled the scene.

Uraraka turned to Bakugo. Her head tilted slowly. Was it unease? Surprise? The look she gave him could not properly convey the shock of feelings that rushed through her. Though once Kamui vanished from view his arm released her from its hold. His demeanor turned sinister. "Uuuuraraka…" his voice fell deep and threatening. "I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this." Though he always talked about killing, he never did it. Even so his intimidation beggared belief. "WAAAHHH" she squealed out.

"Hmph," he grunted. It seemed the fear he inflicted would prevent the story's outbreak. "Before that D-lister crawled over here, you were whispering loud as shit about this Samarra nonsense." He spoke of the painting's title. "The fuck is that about?" Uraraka cleared her throat. "I'm shocked you're so interested in learning about this, to be honest." He quickly corrected her. "You fuck-stick. I'm just trying to pass the god DAMN time!" Uraraka frowned.

What credibility he had as a romantic interest was shattered no sooner than it had been built. "Okay, okay Bakugo. No need to yell." Her eyes turned towards the art. "This painting is based on a legend from the Middle East." Uraraka combed a strand of hair from her face. "The story was fairly interesting. It's about a servant at a market in Bagdad who bumps into Death. He sees Death make a threatening gesture. Frightened, he runs off to his master's home and tells him what has happened. He begs his master for a horse, to which the master agrees to lend him. And he rides off to Samarra in hopes of avoiding death." She nodded sagaciously, as if the moral of the story was yet to come.

"Do you know what happens next, Bakugo?" He frowned in annoyance. "How the fuck am I supposed to know!? You're the one that read about this shit. God damn nerd!" At this point it merely amused her. He was like an angry cat. "Alright, alright," she laughed. "The servant's master went to the market and spoke to Death. He asked why Death threatened his servant. To which death replied: It was not a threatening gesture but merely a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Bagdad." Reaching the crux of the story Uraraka inched closer to Bakugo. She tried her best to make a frightening face and continued mere centimeters from his. "For I had an appointment with him tonight…in Samarra." She slapped her knee in laughter, hardly unable to restrain herself. "I really LOVE that story you know! It's spooky and deep. What did you think?"

"Tch," he spat. She was easily amused. "That weakling could've at least put up a fight. If I came face to face with Death, I would'a killed his ass. Even if I broke a few bones in the process." His response elicited another burst of laughter from his partner. "Y-You're really funny, Bakugo." Uraraka flashed another disarming smile his way. "Why don't we head to the main wing now? It's about time to unveil the painting. We'll probably hide in a bathroom after hours and make a break for it when the party wraps up. Breaking out definitely seems easier than breaking in!"

Uraraka walked away. In her experience Bakugo always did things his own way. He would hear a plan, refute it, and make an explosive scene. Before he even had the chance to do that she headed towards the main wing. To no surprise he thought her plan was shitty. The idea of hiding rubbed him the wrong way. But the purpose of the mission was stealth and cooperation. Her plan succinctly adopted both principles. The way she schemed was similar to Deku, a useless piece of shit constantly lost in his thoughts.

The main gallery had attracted a sizable crowd. Decorated with women and their dates, politicians, celebrities, security, the room could have drowned in its glamour. The casual conversation which swept the hall was hedonistic in nature. It was obvious to both heroes these people could care less about art and more about the being physically present at the event. Whispers of vacation and handbags flooded their ears. Who about what at auction, who wore who, and whose jewels sparkled the most illustrious of the evening. "I…kind of feel out of place. Heh," Uraraka kept herself close to Bakugo.

Their prize at the center of the soiree–––a massive canvas covered in sheets of silk white. "This whole thing may be a bit too flashy for my taste," she spoke casually to maintain their cover. An older gentleman approached the platform. Age had taken its toll upon him and his back had hunched over. "E-Everyone," he spoke calmly and the crowd quietened to hear him out. A microphone was quickly brought to him. "I'm Mr. Matsuda. The curator Mr. Toro had an emergency this evening and wasn't able to attend." He coughed. "I was the previous curator so I-I-I was asked to come here tonight for the unveiling." Bakugo glared. "Can't they hurry this bullshit up." He was impatient.

Another fit of coughs from the former curator preceded the reveal. "Without further ado I present to you…" a drum roll played. "Baracelli's War and Peace!" The cameras began their flash. The crowd roared with applause. And the old man's hands pulled upon the silk to reveal the painting–––an empty canvas. Jaw hit the floor and a few wine glasses too. "No way," Uraraka whispered with worry. Mr. Matsuda in his blindness continued his speech. "I-If you look at the woman, personified here as Peac-" he mumbled. Bakugo interjected. "THAT CANVAS IS FUCKING BLANK YOU DIPSHIT!" Mr. Matsuda collected himself. "Oh?" He turned to the canvas and exclaimed, "Oh my goodness, somebody call the police! THE PAINTING HAS BEEN S-S-STOLEN!"


End file.
